


It happened one night

by Starzfrenia



Category: Mission: Impossible, Mission: Impossible (Movies)
Genre: Benji works hard for his bets, Emotional Baggage, F/M, Fake Sex, First Everything, First Kiss, Plot, Some Humor, There’s another hot guy around, There’s some non-con but a spy lady can handle her own, Will they share the king size bed?, first mission together, not so much though
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-23
Updated: 2021-02-23
Packaged: 2021-03-14 00:53:57
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 9,614
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29659947
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Starzfrenia/pseuds/Starzfrenia
Summary: No summary, if you like Ethan/Ilsa just hop in...Ok... here’s the summary:This story details all the suffering and enjoyment that can take place between 7:00 pm and 06:00 am inside a castle, with two hot agents on their first mission together. It’s a meaningful story even though my summary isn’t.
Relationships: Ilsa Faust/Ethan Hunt
Comments: 3
Kudos: 11





	It happened one night

**Author's Note:**

> Hello! This is my newest story and probably the last one, now that it’s finished I feel my ideas have run out but I loved contributing to this small but passionate Ethan/Ilsa fandom.  
> Please tell me what you think.
> 
> My usual disclaimer: I speak Spanish and live in a non-English speaking country, so if you find mistakes, please ignore them.

“And...how long do you think until they start sleeping together?" Benji said looking alternately at the four screens in front of him but focusing on one in particular.

“What? Who’s they?” Brandt replied without paying much attention, he was writing a thank you letter to the viscount.

"Ughh, Brandt!" Benji exclaimed annoyed at the agent's gossip indifference.

“Unlike you, I have walls of papers to sign, documents to write and some contracts to review, I don't have time to speculate about the private lives of my colleagues ... your field agent contract renewal is coming, right?” He replied threateningly.

“Ok ok, I'll get to work, but seeing mommy and daddy on the screen, battling the discomfort of undressing in front of each other is just painful.”

Brandt, who had put an end to the letter at that moment, dragged his rolling chair and hurried to his side. He looked around for the screen Benji was referring to, found it without much effort. He could see Ethan sitting on the edge of the bed, taking off his polo shirt over his ears and then putting on a white shirt.

“I don't have time to speculate...my ass ... you have moved faster than a bullet.” Benji said.

"And where is Ilsa?" Brandt asked ignoring Dunn. She was not in the room.

"Hmm, someone is interested..." Benji said raising his eyebrows.

"I... forget it."

"I'm joking dear William, that's what I mean ... she just got into the bathroom to change into the dress she’s going to wear during the welcome cocktail, if they would’ve slept together already they wouldn’t mind undressing in front of each other.”

“Ilsa knows we're looking that's why she’s changing in the bathroom, and your 'already’ suggests that they eventually will. I think that is quite unlikely. "

"What do you mean, they’ve been wanting to jump over each other since they met."

“They’re coworkers now. It’s inappropriate.”

“And this is why you were voted the most boring associate of January.”

Benji got a slap in the head for his comment..

“Believe it or not, Ethan thinks just as I do. It’s unlikely he would mess around with her.” Brandt said.

“Hey, I know him longer than you. And ... yes, you're right ...” he said dejected. “But, we don’t know Ilsa, not that much I mean. She could bring forth an Ethan we haven't seen before. They are pretending to be loving husband and wife for three days ... maybe this assignment will help them unleash their impulses.” Benji said while standing up to stretch his legs and arms. “Since we are spending some long days in this cabin, let’s put some fun in this: I bet you 50 dollars that by the end of the week they will have consummated this little platonic crush they have for each other.”

“Okay.” Brandt replied quickly, feeling a little bit dirty. He was certain he was going to be drinking free beers on Saturday.

****

She came out of the bathroom running her hands over her dress to smooth out some wrinkles.

He had finished putting on his left shoe.

They both looked at each other, they were pretty attractive people and they both acknowledged that. Judging by this current vision, this mission was beginning all too well, the first mission together since Ilsa came to the IMF.

In fact, the door of the helicopter that took them to this Scottish castle was the first place they lay eyes on each other since she signed her way in to the force. The last time they met was in London, the night Lane was sent back to British intelligence, packed like an Amazon purchase.

After the delivery, they ate some greek street food, walked through lantern-lit streets until midnight and she waited for him to, at least,give her a sign that he wanted her to be more than the occasional friend who showed up unannounced. The friend who had already made clear her intentions, asking him more than once to leave together.

Did she get a sign?... Nope. Once they were both facing the door of her hotel room, he simply took her by both shoulders and kissed her forehead before leaving.

Ok, Ilsa had to be honest with herself. After that night in London, she gave it some thought and finally realised that she wanted two things in life with great vehemence:

  1. Not lacking of Loboutin shoes and, 
  2. Ethan being as close to her as possible.



Althought she had not yet decided if it was to kiss him to death or just to talk to him and trust her darkest secrets, maybe both.That night, a great chemistry was proved to exist between the agents. He understood her, she understood him. They had both gone through the same things, they’ve relied their lives on each other more than once and that had led to an invisible bond between them.

But apparently it wasn’t enough, cause that unscripted date ended with Ilsa in a hot tub, alone.

****

Ethan raised his eyes only to have a vision of Ilsa leaving the bathroom. Stunning, gloriously beautiful. Heck, why couldn’t things be easier? Ethan had to be honest with himself, that woman was the reason of many of his internal battles. That night when he dropped her off at her hotel room in London, he struggled so hard not to slam her against the door and kiss her violently.

That time he just brought his lips to her warm forehead and then left as fast as he could, hoping he wouldn’t see her again in a long time. He didn't need her to be near, disrupting his world...

Ethan was aware of how hard it was to get away, but didn't understand it fully until they asked if Ilsa Faust would be a good addition to his team and he couldn't say no, even though he tried.

“What are you looking at, Hunt?” Ilsa asked, forcing him back from wherever his mind was.

He had been staring at her for an uncomfortable 23 seconds. "Nothing, I'm sorry."

"You look handsome too," Ilsa said with a wink and playful smile that only some mortals had been blessed to see. There was something she became aware very early in their meeting on the helicopter: Ethan was uncomfortable, and it seemed the reason was her mere presence, but that didn’t make sense. What happened during this couple of months? He just decided she wasn’t worthy of his attention? The guy barely talked to her during the fly and what shocked her the most was that he politely backed away when she approached to hug him hello.

"Okay," Ethan said, ignoring the compliment, which made her roll her eyes. “Let's review this once again, we are here as the Murray couple, distant cousins of Duke Bruce Murray of Atholl in Scotland, and great friends of the host, Viscount Hereford. We are part of the 26 people invited to a three day celebration for the Viscount's 60th birthday. We have both read each other's profile. "

“It's good thing we're not impersonating real people,” Ilsa said as she put on the earrings.

“We are not, but public records and articles have been created on the internet for anyone who wants to make sure.”

Ilsa shook her head, that newbie clarification was not necessary. She put on her shoes and ran her fingers through her hair.

Ethan stood up, finished buttoning the cufflinks of his shirt, and ran his fingers through his hair as well.

Let's explain the mission while they finish getting ready, the president of the United States received an invitation from his great friend from college Viscount John Hereford, to celebrate his birthday at his country house in Scotland. Hours later, he also received one of the many death threats he gets daily, only this time it contained very personal details that only someone from the president's past could have written. The alarms went off, and from that moment on the president traveled with Intelligence agents and his own state security. This week it was the IMF’s turn.

"Don’t you have any more CIA agents, Sloane? Babysitting is not our specialty, ”Brandt replied to the intimidating Head of the Agency.

"We have indications that an attack could be perpetuated during his trip through Europe, we require extra eyes and hands, and you know that I trust Hunt more than any of my men," Sloane concluded with an unusual sincere tone that almost scared Brandt. So this way, our agents were to enter the great European aristocratic world for a few days, the perfect occasion to present Ilsa as the new acquisition.

Ok, it was show time and ...Wow, they were ready to dazzle.

****

"You look exquisit," Benji said into earpiece.

"Thank you," Ilsa and Ethan replied in unison as they walked down the corridor of that quasi-castle.

"You too Ethan," Benji laughed.

Before reaching the marble steps, Ethan took Ilsa's hand and delicately placed it on top of his left forearm so that they ended intertwined, all of this while Ethan gave her one of those extraordinary smiles that made things melt. In fact, Ilsa felt something inside, like water running in her belly.

They went down the stairs, one by one. It would’ve being a total movie cliché that everyone stopped what they were doing and turn to get a glimpse of the couple, because, let’s face it, they are the most beautiful beings in modern history.

But it didn’t happen, no one was there to watch. They looked at each other puzzled, but their instincts led them to an open door, where a piano screeched a little less than harmoniously.

The guests were gathered there. Ethan counted twenty human beings and one dog. The viscount, who was at the piano, stopped beating the keys and everyone seemed to exhale in gratitude.

“Jack Murray, my friend!” The birthday man yelled as he stood up to hug him. Ethan responded with a laugh and a loud clapping on his back. “And the beautiful Anna!” it is a pleasure to see you again! My wife is somewhere near, but I can introduce you to my son, the only heir, Nicholas.”

A tall young man, almost 20 cm taller than his father and Ethan himself, approached holding a glass of wine in his hand. Dark brown hair, blue eyes, strong jaw, perfect nose.The latest models seemed to be improving over time, Ilsa noted with some surprise. The boy greeted the two undercover agents attentively and then left.

It was time for them to start working so Ethan placed himself in the group of men laughing in the corner, after asking his partner’s consent to leave her alone for a few minutes.Ilsa nodded. The president was not there yet, they would make sure the place was clear of any threat, before his arrival.At first sight, these people seemed harmless and equally banal, surely the alcohol would make many things come to surface, they had to wait.

All girls were gathered in the opposite corner, but Ilsa didn’t feel like talking about frugal things just yet, so she approached the bar. She immediately knew she was being followed.

“You look like a champagne girl,” a huge figure positioned next to her.

“Just water tonight.”

“On duty, huh.”

Ilsa turned eye wide to face him, her surprise quickly banished behind a trained calm smile. Nicholas Hereford’s mischievous look puzzled her.

"I mean, if your husband is going to drink the way he seems to be, you're gonna end up being the designated driver to his room,"

"He knows how to control himself," she said as both turned to look at Ethan, he was laughing, probably at some bawdy joke. Ilsa smiled too, it was great to see him happy even if it was just a show.

Nicholas was the typical conceited boy, 25 years old, a party soul without a doubt, womanizer, of course. Rich and incredibly handsome, oh yeah. And he was looking at her without blinking, she noticed it out of the corner of her eye.Ilsa could almost feel the heat of his breathing on her shoulder. She had to get rid of him.

She opened her mouth to tell him to take his business elsewhere, preferably to an off guard girl, no doubt there would be one at the cocktail but Benji spoke first into her ear. "We have done a profile check on everyone except the Hereford boy, Ilsa I need a front shot of his face."

She obeyed and turned slightly to face Nicholas, so that the camera-pin on her dress would focused directly on him, the boy stood up when he received her attention and smiled sideways. Ethan, on the other side of the room, turned to check on his partner, noticing that Nicholas's gaze was going directly to her cleavage, from up there he was having an enviable view. He restrained himself from reaching out and breaking the exchange, then remembered that they were both working and that she was not really his wife.

"All done, thank you.” Benji said.

But Nicholas took the chance he was being granted and spoke decisively.

"If I may say, dear Anna, your husband is quite a lot older than you, I couldn't help but notice."

“Hmm, someone's got the hots for Ilsa and her gorgeous dress,” Benji said with amusement.

"He is older... and he fits me very well," Ilsa replied.

"I imagine you weren’t short of younger suitors, before you got...tied up,"

Ilsa tossed her head slightly to the side and feigned a funny expression, the agent was quick to recognize that Nicholas could mean a way into the heart of this group of people, so she would not close the door that he was opening.

“To be honest, not many. I have always been attracted to mature men, they are in many ways... far more interesting, "

"That is because we haven't met before,"

"Mmm...how confident, but we haven’t crossed our paths because while I got “tied up” you were probably playing Mario Kart"

Nicholas raised a glass of champagne and offered it to Ilsa. She took it and didn't flinch when his fingers brushed hers on purpose.

She raised her glass and put it to her lips, attracting the boy's thirsty gaze. Incredible, Ilsa thought, ‘my man’ is 10 meters away and this guy doesn't care, clearly they've never explained to him there are things he just can't have.

"Thank you," Ilsa said. Then she pulled away from him, feeling a heat run down her spine, sure Nicholas and his laser eyes were the cause of that.

The boy saw how she approached the guy who unfortunately was her husband, he received her with an outstretched arm, which he then placed around her waist.

If she were his wife, he wouldn't keep talking to his buddies as if she didn't exist, he’d give her undivided attention, Nicholas thought. The “old man's” fingers lowered slightly to her hip and began to drum rhythmically, typical move of a man marking his territory. Nicholas snorted as Ilsa leaned close to her husband's ear, seconds before he turned to her, two fingers lifting her chin and placing a kiss on her lips.

****

Ilsa reached Ethan, as Benji announced that the President was about to enter the room.

She felt Ethan's strong arm pulling her close, then his hand settling on her hip, dangerously low. Ilsa was about to withdraw it, but that would look bad to curious eyes and especially to the boy who was definitely still looking.

Well, she was going to go along with him, this way Ilsa could have a little more fun making his partner uncomfortable: Agent Faust brought her mouth close to his earlobe and said "P. is in the nest, cut the jealousy crap," then she gently exhaled on his neck.That made him stir, all the hairs on the back of his neck rose in unison with her voice.

Later he would wonder why he did it, but at that moment he had nothing else on his mind. He wanted the boy to see that Ilsa was his (his agent at least) and that he had no chance with her. For about 10 seconds, the president was the least of his concerns.

He lifted Ilsa's chin with two fingers and locked eyes with her.Her eyebrows furrowed into a V, silently asking him: what is this about? He answered by smiling sideways and then connecting his lips to hers before she could protest.

They didn’t know it but all those human beings were witnessing a historical milestone that many were waiting for (including the writer), it was a kiss that lasted microseconds cause married people usuallydon’t do PDA.So both agents were left feverish and wanting more of this thing they had never done and did not know could be so addictive.

The women in the room noticed the newcomers show of affection, girls always do.They let out an “awww” to mask their envy with tenderness: inside they hated Anna and desired her husband, that's how it always is.

*****

In the cabin, 3 miles away,Benji raised his open palm towards Brandt who had his mouth down to the ground.

"What, they haven't slept together, it's just a kiss, an undercover kiss," William said.

"One unnecessary undercover kiss! And they have a king bed and more than 7 hours alone to turn it into something else, you better declare yourself a loser," answered Benji, turning off his microphone first so that the conversation remained between them.

*****

They all ended up drunk, the host was to blame because he gave them the courage, at all times, to leave the open bar empty at the end of the evening.

This was a great situationto prove and apply the saying “In vino veritas” and after seeing all of them in such a state they could already conclude that none of them was able to attack the President, and apparently he didn't believe it either, because he was drunk and careless like everyone else.

"One last dance, Mrs. Murray?" Nicholas asked Ilsa once he managed to stumbling walk across the room.

She was talking precisely with his mother seconds before, and if it hadn’t been for her insistence as well, Ilsa would have rejected the offer.

He took her by the hand and then released her only to grab her by the waist.

Ilsa was going to get that hand out of there. But Nick was faster and he pressed her back in such a way that she ended up stamped against his body.

She couldn't make a scene, mostly because she turned around and saw that everyone was looking and laughing as if this was just another mischief from the Hereford boy.

At that moment, Ethan came in the room, he had to go to check that the president was delivered to his room safely.

“Ilsa, what are you doing?” He whispered, as quietly as possible so only her and the other agents in the cabin could hear.

Ilsa evidently did not reply,she was just following the rhythm of the music that seemed to be some kind of Tango. Nicholas moved her from side to side, quite skilfully, despite all the hard drinks on him.

"Anna, your husband is watching us..."

“Yes, Nicholas, I must go back to him,” she said.

The guy bent a little in order to place his lips close to her earlobe, "I'll see you on the east terrace at 01:00, please be there," Ilsa didn't know if it was the smell of Nick's hair or the heat of his skin emanating near her neck, that she was about to ask him where that was and why they had to wait until 01:00.

Ethan in a second made a fist while staring at the dancing couple. Luckily for him, Mr. Hereford sidled up and whispered. "You better rescue your wife, my son can become obstinate sometimes.

The agent could not have had a better incentive, he quickly moved towards the dance floor.

“Nick, I think I must get my wife back.”

The boy instead of standing aside, which he would have done if he weren’t drunk, placed himself between both agents.

"Why don't you ask her if that's what she wants, old man."

Ilsa opened her eyes and almost laughed at that moment. The boy had balls, but he was also signing his death warrant. She quickly lunged at Ethan who had already put one foot in front of the other to land the blow. She took his hand out of the air and had to undo his fist to entwine her fingers with him. She placed her other hand on his chest and gently pushed for the agent to take two steps back.

"Let's go," she said, looking into his eyes. Ethan reacted in time and followed his partner’s order.

“Jack, excuse my son,” Mr. Hereford went ahead, “He’s drunk and with raging hormones...Anna, I must say that I am impressed with your reflexes! You have to know your husband very well to guess his movements that way.” The host seemed to have wanted his son to be taught a lesson, lucky for the him Ilsa was there to prevent it.

In the middle of the room, Nicholas snorted and turned around as his mother approached to scold him.

****

“They are all harmless, I doubt anyone in that room sent a threatening letter in the last few days.” Ilsa said when she came out in her robe, ready to go to bed. Without a hint of makeup and her hair tousled from the rushed blow dry she looked beautiful, he thought, struggling not to stare.

"That Nicholas is scum," Ethan said, as he hurried to the bathroom it was his turn to take a bath.

"That guy doesn't even tie his shoelaces by himself, Ethan,"

"Sure not, but tonight he wanted to untie the bow on the front of your dress. I imagine many have been damaged for much less than that, why didn't you stop him?”

"And make a scene, like the one you wanted to put together? Please, the boy is innocuous.

"He called me an old man." He said with some bitterness.

“If you think it through Ethan, we both are, compare to him,” Ethan didn't want to assimilate that last statement and closed the bathroom door as quickly as possible.

She couldn't help but smile, the boy was impressive and had his eye on her. If she went out to look for him now, she would surely have an entertaining night. Just a thought that she herself was surprised to have, then suppressed it like everything else. Ilsa get yourself together.

The cell phone rang on the table.

“Hey, agent Faust, or should I say the hottest old lady of the party,” Benji said.

“Benji.”

“How is everything going so far, happy to join the IMF?”

“If all assignments are going to be this luxurious, count me in for more.”

Benji's silence made her see that this mission was the exception to the rule.

“Or not.”

“Not Luxurious, but exciting.” He said rather ironically.

“Exciting huh... next time you’ll be my partner, this one is not as exciting as I thought.” She said with some sadness, Ilsa definitely had other expectations of the job in general, and of Ethan specifically.

“That kiss wasn’t boring at all, let me tell you that.”

“I guess it was part of the job,” She had wished at some point it weren’t. To her it felt so real, but she wasn’t going to admit that. "But, the way you put it, next mission you could be the one receiving his kiss.”

“You can't lie to me, darling, you almost died when he kissed you, I have it on tape.”

"Don’t tell him that." She whispered, remembering his burning lips on hers.

“And tell me,” he continued. “Who will sleep on the couch?”

"Not me, I can assure you that.”

They had a king size bed, for her it was fine to sleep on the meter on the right, but surely Ethan would not be happy to sleep in the other remaining meter. If the tub weren’t wet, he would put a pillow in it and sleep there. Safe, a closed door from her.

“Tell you what, I'll give you $20 if you make him sleep in the bed,” Benji said, trying his luck.

“And me on the couch? There is no way, I love my back and its well being.”

“No, both of you in bed.”

She frowned at this rare proposal.

“What is this Benji, some kind of IMF initiation? Get your team leader in bed - challenge?”

He laughed hard, he was taking advantage of the fact that Brandt had come out of those four walls to make this move.

“Nope, just trying to make the job more fun! But if you don't want one more challenge in your life, it doesn't matter. The others could, but maybe your talents are different.”

“The others?” Ilsa frowned and Benji did not speak, she hesitated. The others? How many others? ... “How long will you be peeking on us?”

“I’m about to turn your screen off, I have to focus on the President cause he’s the important one here. Tomorrow I’ll check only the footage you allow me to, you know...to see if you were successful. Not gonna watch farther, for my own mental health.”

“Ok, I'm in. But Benji, nothing else is going to happen. So you don't have to worry for your fragile mind."

“Ok, Good night princess. Gonna lay down in a mattress here for a moment, next to Brandt...unlike you I didn’t get satin sheets.” Or a more exciting companion, he must have added.

“Gnight, Benji,"

Benji smiled to himself. He really worked hard for his bets. Even if it meant loosing part of the earnings to win.

*****

Ethan came out of the bathroom ready with loose blue pants and no shirt on, Ilsa followed her partner with her eyes, until he positioned himself on the other side of the bed. If he laid there she would earn $20 without any effort. So she stared at his moves.

“Is something wrong? He asked. Ilsa realised that her eyes were going straight to her pecs.

"No..."

He nodded and took a pillow. Without even looking back at her, he threw himself into the two-length armchair with a book in his hand, his calves bent into an inverted V.

"Ethan,” she whispered. "I think you would be more comfortable here,” She patted the empty space to her side. “I promise I won't move,” she smiled.

“I’m fine," he said as he turned a page of the book, pretending that he hadn't been surprised by her offer.

"I will not be the one to listen to your back pain complaints, look, you can't even stretch your legs properly on that chair!"

Ethan felt kind of troubled . A younger less wiser Ethan would have thrown himself on that bed at that moment. But he was avoiding to get into a no returning point with Ilsa, their relationship had to remain professional. That kiss a few hours ago showed that losing control was easy when feelings threatened to take over. He would no longer make the mistakes of the past, he knew very well that mixing pleasure with business could lead to extreme situations and he also knew that whatever the object of his affection was,lingered in constant danger. He wouldn't do that to Ilsa even if his body begged him to get in between those sheets and do everything with her, except sleep.

"Don't worry, I won't verbalise my complaints," he finally said and flipped over another page from his book.

"Fine.”

She rolled to her side, determined to dream of something totally unrelated. Pretending it did not hurt to be rejected once again ...and to lose 20 bucks.

*****

Ilsa woke up with a jump, she just had one of those dreams. The lights were on, Ethan was still awake, reading.

“What time is it?” She asked.

“You slept for 20 minutes.”

“Uh hu...” She got up and put on her robe.

“Where are you going?”

“It’s one o'clock.. to the east terrace.”

“What the fuck, Ilsa?” He said standing up.

“Gosh, Just kidding!There’s is a tea station in the hallway, I need some water.”

She stepped out and walked about ten meters in a half-lit corridor.Deathly silence reigned, well not so much, someone was snoring like alocomotive in a room nearby.

She poured herself the glass of water and made her way back. However, she decided to keep on walking past the door of her room, the feeling of being alone there brought her comfort. It was not ordinary to be able to walk in a castle like that one without being disturbed or guided on a tour. The paintings on the walls were contemporary, very beautiful but in that light they did not match the very 1800s atmosphere or the creaky wooden floor. Without noticing it, or perhaps being a little conscious, she reached the east side. And ‘oh surprise’, the terrace was on the second level, right where she was. She passed through a glass door and felt a wave of moisture. Lots of greenery hung from the wooden ceiling grills. She walked over to the railing and a beautiful view of the valley was revealed to her, lighted up by a full moon.

“I always come here to smoke, not this late though.” Someone said, behind her.

Ilsa had noticed someone approaching, she obviously knew it was him.

“It’s a beautiful spot.” She replied.

“I know of something else that’s beautiful.”

She looked at him in such a way that he would notice none of his efforts were going to be successful.

“Nicholas, tell me something. What is it that you want?”

“I thought I made myself clear. And I thought you understood, that is why you are here.”

“I’m here because I’m curious. How can a guy as young as you are...”

“You are doubting you could attract someone like me?”

She was sure she could attract someone if she made it her mission, but the reason she was there was another: this infatuation he was showing was something out of the ordinary and rather suspicious.

“As soon as you entered that room I was drawn to you. That doesn’t happen to me often. And the fact that you were married, made it all ...”

“What...”

“Challenging.”

“I see...”

“Anna, have you read Faust? By Goethe.”

.

.

“Yes,” she said without taking her eyes off him.

Faust is the story of a man who sells his soul to the devil. Did Nicholas know about the mission? His father, the viscount knew about it but signed a confidentiality agreement, only he and no one else, not even his wife or his son, were supposed to know the true identities of the two agents ...

Nicholas continue.“I might sense a certain frustration in you, even though you try to show the opposite, that is. You are beautiful, rich, smart, but somehow you are not satisfied with what you have achieved. Or who you married, in any case, a pact with the devil," he said as his index finger pointed to his own chest, "might help you get out of that discomfort, you know like in Faust.”

She smiled.

“And here I thought you left the cocktail party drunk, there is no hint of alcohol in you if you are speaking this... accurately.”

“Got me. I was pretending. You see, drunks can get away with a lot of things, even trying to get a married woman into bed.”

“They could equally get they ass kick by an angry husband.”

He got a little bit closer to her.

“What a boring life if we don't get to risk a little.” He said as he put his hand on her hip. “That’s exactly why you’re here right?”

A bolt of electricity crossed Ilsa's abdomen, from one side to the other. She shuddered at the contact. A totally fine physical reaction that had nothing to do with what she was thinking. She hadn't come for this, had she? What would Ethan say...

Ethan has nothing to do with this...

She put her hand on top of Nicholas's and tried to pull it away from where it had landed. But instead of him dismissing his advances, Nicholas became more fervent, he withdrew his hand, yes, but quickly placed it on her butt. And with the other hand he took the back of her neck and pushed it towards him, he kissed her, releasing tons of suppressed desire.

If they reached to this point, it was because she had somehow allowed it, the feeling of being rejected was new to her, this was her way to cope, she guessed.

But just as she seemed to lose her temper, she regained it.

Ilsa pushed Nicholas away, hoping that he would detach himself from her, she did not want to use any excessive force or make some trained movement that could be suspicious. The boy didn't give up and pushed her against a wall.

Ilsa placed her hands on his chest and pressed harder, he was heavy and still had his tongue in her throat. So she raised her knee and connected it with some soft part, He flinched and that was all.

“Bitch!” He yelled.

Nicholas never saw the shadow approaching and placing itself between them. Ethan raised one leg and took advantage of the fact that the guy was bent in two: he buried his bare foot in his cheek making him fall to the ground.

Then Ethan looked at Ilsa and she knew she was in trouble.

The team leader turned around and left.

****

She followed him closely behind. Ilsa knew better than to address a word to him. She hoped he wouldn’t either.

But some things don't go our way.

“What the fuck where you thinking, Ilsa?”

“I'm going to sleep now, let's talk in the morning.”

“We are working!”

“That kid knows something, Ethan! He just brought my last name out of the blue.”

“And that’s why you allowed him to touch you?”

No, I allowed him to touch me because you wouldn’t. She thought.

“Can’t believe we are having this conversation, have you heard of the honey trap? Sexpionage? First lesson in the academy Ethan! What’s bothering you? That I went without you knowing? Or that he finally got what he wanted? ...Oh no, I know, it bothers you that he might think I’m not happy with your marital services and that is why I need to go look for love elsewhere.”

Ethan wasn’t going to let himself be trick into her game. He just exhaled and threw himself once more on the couch with his back to her.

****

03:00 hrs.

Horrible guttural sounds woke her up, at first Ilsa thought she was still dreaming, then she heard them again, now growing in volume. They were grunts and thumps alternated with very loud breaths. Her body reacted before her mind, a skill gained through the years. She got up with the gun already cocked and pointed it at the dense darkness from which the sounds came, right there she feared for Ethan, because as soon as her eyes got used to the blackness, the light that entered through the cracks of the door drew a figure that moved frantically just above where he was supposed to be sleeping. She ran to the lamp placed on the table at the foot of the bed.

When the light came on her eyes widened, the sounds got louder and she found that Ethan was twisting violently, throwing slaps in the air. There was no one else, it was just him, writhing.

The growls, those were unbearable to her ears, they were pure pain. She ran over and put her hand on his forehead, he was drenched with sweat.

"Ethan, wake up!”she yelled at him as she dodged the flaps he was sending.

Nothing, and now his cries and screams were joined by almost syllables, trying to string words together.

Ilsa began to pat him on the cheeks asking him to wake up. She introduced a little more strength to her last slap. Ethan's eyes widened and almost popped out of its sockets, in a stupendous reflection he sat up and sent a punch to the shadow that was almost on top of him.

Ilsa stumbled back and fell on top of the table, her body threw the lamp to the floor and the ceramic made a fatal noise that echoed across the already sleeping castle. Ethan immediately stood up, extremely awake now and introduced to an unfortunate reality: he had hit his partner.

“I’m so sorry Ilsa... I ...didn't realise it was you," he said as he put his hands on either side of her waist to get Ilsa to her feet.

"It’s ok, you weren't conscious," she replied with difficulty. Her skin was beginning to show traces of the blow, red in the middle of her chest near her throat. The impact had left her breathless.

He helped her sit up on the bed.

"That is going to turn purple," he replied in great distress. "They will think it’s family violence,"

Ilsa exhaled in relief, she could now grant air to her body, she didn't make much fuss before so she wouldn’t increase Ethan's guilt.

"After ... your wife’s misconduct in the terrace, maybe they won't ask for further explanation," she said, with the most sincere expression of regret she could find in her repertoire.

He looked at her in a "all is forgiven but not forgotten" way.

"Ethan, how long have you been having these episodes?”

"I...don’t remember, feels like forever, only they’ve seem to have gotten worse,” he said not wanting to go into detail, she didn't need to know that one day he got up and his bedroom wall was destroyed, his fists fitting perfectly into the holes.

"You could hurt yourself, you need to check that out ..."

"I know, will do ..."

The interruption came in the form of a knock on the door. It took them a few seconds to realise someone was calling. Ethan's nightmare screams and pottery crashing to the floor had surely awakened half the castle.

"Is everything okay in there?" It was the Viscount's voice.

They both looked at each other thinking what the best answer was.

They could tell the truth, after all it was nothing out of the ordinary to have a nightmare, but if they opened up,they would have to explain why Ethan was sleeping on the couch and elaborate on a broken lamp and a punch in the chest.

If Ilsa had decided to investigate Nicholas by herself, then Ethan had just decided for himself that this was the perfect moment to reinforce their identities, especially when he had just heard Nicholas was outside asking what was happening.

So Ethan looked at the British lady next to him with a mischievous glint in his eyes.

She narrowed hers in disbelief.

“Uh uh ... no no no, don't even think about it, Hunt."

“You own me, that move of yours on the terrace put my manhood in doubt, now you have to fix it." He said deadly serious.

Ilsa stared at the ground.

"Fine," she mumbled.

Ethan released the widest smile, this was going to be fun. Also, it was not only revenge, it was a fact: whenever you wanted people to stop asking, you just had to make them uncomfortable, and that’s what they were about to do.

Ilsa approached the door, shook her head from side to side, stretching her neck, rubbed her forehead to take courage and put her decency away. Ethan followed her close with his arms crossed.

The agent inhaled, exhaled and inhaled again, she had to put as much air into her lungs for what she was about to do. She then placed both of her palms on the door.

“Hello?” the Viscount yelled again. “If you do not speak to us in the next few seconds we will open the door, we have a master key.”

Ethan waved his hands to hurry Ilsa. "Ah, and we need a memorable ending." He whispered.

She rolled her eyes.

The moans that she began to release seeped out to where the Viscount, his wife, his son and a couple of guests were standing.

Inside, Ilsa made sounds that would normally mean pleasure but that was not what she was feeling,self consciousnesses was reddening her cheeks. And she didn’t even think about setting her eyes on Ethan that would worsen the redness in her face and closing them was not an option either, she might even imagine him.

This was a show that she had to put on and the ending had to be satisfying, she kept screaming and moaning, close enough to the crack of the door for her to be heard, “oh Jack” being the most used couple of words, followed by “don't stop ". Ethan joined the fanfare, positioned himself next to Ilsa and began pounding on the door rhythmically, soon an orchestra had assembled between each thrust and moan. After several minutes, they agreed it was time to put an end to it, after all it had to be believable. They set eyes on each and it stopped being awkward for a second, they even smiled a little. Then the end came and it was epic.

The viscount's wife backed away from the door in shock as soon as she heard the screams and saw the wood vibrate with each thrust. The couple next door smiled uncomfortably and backed off stepping on each other as they tried to rush into their room.

The viscount launched a delighted laugh.

"I think there is nothing to worry about, and perhaps we should imitate them,"

Nicholas was the only one who stayed a while longer, long enough to hear the great consummation, with his fists clenched and a vein bulging from his neck.

*****

Ilsa laughed out loud.

"I think I need water, I am exhausted." She said as she sat on the bed.

"At least they won't ask about that bruise on your chest,"

"Hardcore sex," they said in unison and they both laughed.

“I’ve never seen such a good performance,” Ethan said surprised.

“Lier.”

“I mean, I'm more acquainted with seeing the real stuff not performances.”

“So they were good performances if you couldn't tell them apart.”

This Ilsa, the one he's just seen was a delight. At the same time he realised that many things about her were likely to be a surprise for him, cause although they seemed like old friends ... or lovers, they didn't really know each other. He was afraid, however, of knowing her: what he saw was incredible, what would become of him and his plans?

They stared as the smiles that curved the corners of their lips, disappeared. Could they do something to ignore that attraction that glue them together?

Ilsa and Ethan were now facing each other, feeling naked, as if their thoughts could be read. That situation had been very intimate, they could very well continue it, this time for real. And that was the exact same idea they both had in their mind. Ilsa had trouble swallowing and Ethan was beginning to fall victim to certain physiological urges that he couldn't hide inside his pants and that was the main reason he turned around and went to the bathroom.

Water ran for several seconds.

When he came out wiping his face with a towel he found Ilsa hadn’t moved from where he left her.

She also cooled down, it was for the best. Another idea rounded her thoughts. There was still something she wanted to ask him. She would not pass up the opportunity.

"You were yelling and grunting, a little while ago, before the whole thing... do you remember what you were dreaming about?"

"No," he lied.

"You said her name."

Ethan opened his mouth to say something that would hopefully change the course of the conversation that he didn't want to have. He was very fond of Julia, and although he was sure that she was happy, he could not force his subconscious to internalise that she no longer needed him.

"You don't have to tell me anything," Ilsa said when she saw him upset.

He didn’t speak but moved towards her and sat on the bed, to Ilsa's surprise, right next to her. She decided to take advantage of this moment of closeness initiated by him, so she put her thigh on top of the bed and faced him. Then placed her hand on his cheek. That contact had been safe and well received before but now it felt dangerous.

She expected him to flinch away, but thank goodness he didn’t. On the contrary, he welcomed it and both were transported to that moment in Kashmir before he decided put an iron barrier between them.

He clearly saw how her chest started raising and falling more quickly.Theurge to touch her was extremely strong but first he had to make sure he would be welcomed, so he raised his eyes to read hers. They were smiling. How beautiful she was and how comfortable he felt around her when he did not try to put up stupid walls.

Her smile granted him permission to stop controlling certain impulses. With his index finger he touched her bruised chest, moving his head lightly from side to side, letting Ilsa know that he was feeling remorseful. Ilsa, found this pleasantly surprising and more so when she felt his fingertips travelling up her neck, as if tracing lines between each freckle he found.

When she bit her lip, Ethan knew he was lost. Her fingers took a path south and didn't stop until they bumped into Ilsa's top. Her lips parted, a natural impulse that showed her body needed more ventilation. She hoped he wouldn’t stop.

He didn’t, Ethan crouched down and found himself kneeling in front of her,

Eagerly he put his lips on the damaged skin, kissing it over and over, like apologising. Ilsa's head fell back helplessly.

Those nights he did not dream of beating someone, he dreamed of Ilsa. Kissing her without being able to stop. This was not a dream, he was getting intoxicated with her taste, no plan of his could make him remove his lips from her skin at that moment.

Ilsa was clutching the bed cover with both hands, tight, as if her life depended on it. A slight clamour left her lips, and that was a queue for Ethan's lips to travel down the same path his fingers traced a moment ago, deep in her cleavage.

Suddenly, he rose and with a single touch on her shoulder, he made her lay down on the bed. Her body would inevitably fall on top of Ilsa’s and he would kiss her as he had dreamed ...

But he just stood there, his eyes fixed on her but not exactly looking at her.

Then he took a few steps back and sat on the opposite end of the bed, exhaling.His head fell between his hands, elbows on his knees. Ilsa sat up, didn't take his eyes off him and for a good few minutes she read through his movements.

He was taking a long time to speak so she decided to save him some suffering by getting straight to the point.

"Don't you want me, Ethan?"

The agent's eyes went wide. "Ilsa, I ..."

"Just answer the question"

"It’s not that simple,"

"It is as simple as saying yes or no." She knew that he did want her, by how she saw her, by how he touched her. She just needed to hear it.

"I can’t have someone with me, it would not be healthy or fair for either party,"

Do you Ethan take Julia to be your lawful wedded wife, to have and to hold, to love, cherish, honour and protect?

"Basically, you decide to set aside anyone who wants a bit of that little heart of yours," Ilsa stated.

To shield from terrors known and unknown?

"You do not deserve this, I can’t do this to you," Ethan replied.

To lie, to deceive, to fail to prevent her harm

In a selfish futile fleeting attempt to escape your own true self?

“I think I’m more than entitled to decide for my own, Ethan, I don't know if you noticed, but this is me telling you that I accepted coming to the IMF ... because of you. " She swallowed because now she was going to be honest, Ilsa couldn't hide it anymore. "I realised that I can't be away from you."

That was it, she had told him. It was no longer something implied, it was real.

He stared at her, he was afraid that this moment would come, in which Ilsa was going to put the cards on the table and he ... he wouldn’t not know what to do.

In the absence of response, she smiled sarcastically. Clearly mad. She shook her head and began to open the bed to lay down and wait for dawn.

"Ilsa ... I want to prevent something bad from happening ..."

She tossed a pillow on the floor. “I am a trained agent, so are you. If anything happens to us is on our own account, not anyone else’s responsibility. We have the right to live, to feel ... to love.They both looked at each other at the mention of that word.

“Being scared is not gonna do us any good, living on the past either. And...I am not her.”

She read him so well. So well it scared him.

"You know, she continued, “I think I figured out what's going on in your head," she didn't think to get this card out but she couldn't stop her mouth. This was the last attempt, after this she won’t try to get him out of his misery ever again.

"I do not think you do," he said in a serious tone turning to look at the floor.

Now he had just challenged her, making this a tiny less difficult. Not so much though. He doesn’t think I do? Most people think their experiences are more traumatic than those of others. The stories are often similar, only people choose to cope in different ways.

She shook her head from side to side and snorted.

Ilsa waited for him to look up to continue, she needed a little time herself to gain courage to address something that she had not talked about in a long time, now it seemed a great moment to verbalise what she never could in front of the therapist . She sat down.

"You don't think I know .... huh." It seemed like a rough start but the tone she used was mostly sad. "Let me tell you a story .... something I do not talk about often." Ethan narrowed his eyes unsure. “It’s not in any file you surely received, because it was on the MI6 best interest that it remained unreported. You know how it is,” she was thinking about Croatia and Julia being killed only on paper kind of thing.

She continued. “A while back, when I started in MI6, I had a partner, he was team leader and I was the rookie, he taught me quite a lot... he taught me everything he could. I might dare to say...this is me because of him."

Ethan softened his posture, his shoulders slumped, he knew he would hear something that he might not like.

"He quit and went to work in Her Majesty’s diplomatic service and I continued on the field, he took that position because we fell in love and eventually ... we ... got married.” She smiled, perhaps at the remembrance of a sunny day, a white gown and a handsome man waiting for her at the altar.

Ethan wasn’t able to react that quickly, he was trying to internalise what he just heard.

"You ... are married.”

She shook her head, and from her expression he knew immediately that their stories had a lot in common. "Funny, that also surprised me of you when Luther told me your story, as if we were both unfit for marriage ..."

"What happened Ilsa?" Ethan said concerned, enough to ignore that people were talking about his personal life behind his back.

"Long story short," she had to sum it up to the bare minimum, that way she didn't risk showing more emotions than she wanted. “I was on a mission in Somalia, the agency got a notification confirming I had been captured. But it was not true, it was a matter of a communication failure, I wasn’t able to get in touch via a secure line and I could not for a week, you know that often happens and your handler waits until you can finally give a signal... and he knew that it happened quite often...”

Ilsa did not consider that talking about this with someone for the first time would bring the pain back, the feeling of being powerless.She thought she had already healed, her eyes watering and her broken voice might be telling her otherwise.

“Feelings were too strong for him to reason, he got despaired and fell into the trap.James went to Somalia just to be captured by a terrorist group. They did not leave a decent body to bury. "

She didn't intend for this to turn into a consultation with Dr. Phil, let alone cry in front of Ethan. She was just trying to make a point. She no longer dreamed of the empty coffin of the man she loved, she was sure she could try again, silencing a distant and fearful voice inside her that told her history could repeat itself.

She didn't notice Ethan stood up because at some point in the narrative she buried her gaze on her palms. He now was in front of her and he was taking her hands andgently pulling her up.

He then wrapped his arms around her and held her there. Her head resting on his shoulder. Both comfortable, like two puzzle pieces that were built to fit together.

Ilsa didn't see it.

She didn't see that he also shed a couple of tears, maybe for her and her story, maybe for himself and his.

He understood immediately, she was choosing to live with the necessary optimism to give whatever might happen between them, a chance.

Ok, lesson learned, he thought.Two damaged people wanting to start over, two equally strong and trained people with the most dangerous job longing for human warmth, love.And fuck, she’s saved me from death like a hundred times. Could they be a better match?

“I do,” he whispered into her ear.

Ilsa parted with a frown. "You do?” She asked not quite understanding.

"You asked whether I wanted you or not, I do want you." He said.

His lips found hers melting into a gently kiss, recognising each others flavour in them. His hands went from her shoulders to her hips and then very slowly to her bum. it became unbearable to pretend they wanted to take their time...

*****

Entangled legs and sheets. The morning rays caught them lounging in each other's arms.

“I’ve been wanting to do this for quite a long time.” Ethan admitted it. “Now, how am I supposed to keep myself away from you?”

“Are you sure?I didn’t put too much pressure on you, did I?" She asked, placing her chin on his chest, a perfect spot to look him in the eye.

“Oh, you did!” Let me number your actions: 1) Use that insane dress for the cocktail party 2) Flirt and ...kiss that callow boy 3) Smelling so good 4) And If by pressure you mean your mere existence then I feel a profuse pressure to have you close wherever I go.”

"Now you understand me." She said with a smile and Ethan mentally slap himself for not mentioning her smile as number five.

The alarm clock buzzed, it was 6:00 am. Benji would connect to the cameras in 10 minutes.

"I think we should pretend that nothing happened tonight." Ilsa said getting up.

"It depends on who you prefer wins the bet those two made on us," Ethan replied.

"You noticed it too."

"I suspected it when Brandt called to tell me that he was giving me $25 to stay on the couch."

Ilsa thought about it as she pulled the robe over her naked body, she looked at the clock, 6:05 am.

Ethan finally stood up and made his way to the shower, not before stepping past her and placing a sweet kiss on her lips.

****

"Hi Benji," Ilsa said with the phone at her ear,an making sure the water was still running behind the bathroom door.

"Good morning agent Faust!"

"6:05 am Dunn, not a minute before,"

"Ok, m’lady.”

...

...

...

"I guess you owe me $20." She said after a couple of minutes, giving him time to rewind and watch.

"They are all yours," he replied. "And that last kiss ... not boring at all."

The bathroom door opened.

“Let me claim that money Faust, Benji just saw my naked ass.” Ethan said.

She laughed, “Don’t feel bad it’s definitely the best one I’ve ever seen.”

FIN

**Author's Note:**

> That’s it! Now that our beloved agents have decided to live with certain optimism, go check what happens next in my other story “Achilles’ heel”. Poor guys, what we put them through.


End file.
